"You were stripped of rank."
"Yes, Magistra," Kamiéra replied.
"Jaira is Second of First Company."
"Yes, Magistra," Jaira replied.
"I told you that Kamiéra was to be treated as an Ordinary of First Company, and that you were to lead, not she, until I said otherwise."
"Yes, Magistra," Tesliain replied.
Slender, calloused fingers rubbed at the bridge of a nose attached to an unusually pale face.
"In today's exercise, while the Bladespears were locked in with the heavy infantry a league away, the entire Witchspear force lured the fast elements of XIV and XII into a series of collapsing boxes before performing a reformed encirclement punctuated by a driving speartip of First Company, so flawlessly and so smoothly that even I thought my charges had somehow lost their nerve before they were suddenly sword lengths' away from the two Proconsuls.
"A moment," she said suddenly and hurried out of the tent. It did not take Gifted hearing to catch intense vomiting that went on for almost a minute, followed by ragged breaths, followed by some gagging, more ragged breaths, and a pause.
"Tesliain," Magistra Leirola resumed as she calmly strode back in, acting for all the world as if there had been no break. "You are one of the very best field commanders I've had the honor to teach. You are flawless in your effort, diligent in preparation, and capable of remarkable flexibility in battle.
"Jaira," she continued. A wry twist of pale lips. "Little sister," she resumed, ignoring Jaira's flush. "You have become so much more than any of us had expected, and you do our House proud: Endlessly watching, anticipating, and learning.
"And neither of you is capable of this," she said, clearly waiting a beat just to let their pride swell up a bit and to deflate it. "Oh, you could have planned for this, though knowing you both, you'd have dismissed it as too intricate and too likely to fail -- correctly, I should add." Another pause. "Only one of you is so sure of her abilities and so sure of her sisters' abilities and so addicted to innovation that she would have planned this, and initiated it, and somehow executed it and had scores of young women accomplish it as if it was a melan at Court."
She paused to take a shuddering breath. One of the impassive faces before her allowed concern to show. "Magistra, pardon, but do you need the medicae?"
"I have not asked you a question, Kamiéra, and so you do not have permission to speak," Leirola said evenly, and the speed with which the young woman resumed that still look mollified her. "But your kindness is noted and appreciated, if misplaced. This always happens when my husband has been sufficiently charming and I have been away from him for too long. The medicae report that all appears well and I'll be back at the Academy for at least several Seasons soon." She relished watching them perform a simple logic exercise and realize what she was saying. Mother above, had she been this thick when she was that young?
"Today was not the first time it seemed to me that Kamiéra was leading, but today was so obvious that no one could miss it." Tesliain and Jaira looked abashed but just as she'd expected, the third young woman stepped forward to protest.
"Magistra," she began, and oh how she looked like her mother in that moment, angry but cautious, "This is untrue and maligns my sisters. Tesliain led from the front and Jaira was her Caller; I know because I watched it all from the very back of First. You may accuse me of not heeding the lessons I've been given, but not they."
Leirola paused and let the silence grow. The girls would think it was because she was weighing them and waiting for one to crack. It was really because a sour stomach had been her curse in every one of her pregnancies and this was no exception and she adamantly did not wish to head back out and vomit nothing again.
Anyway, she had already figured out what was happening. Her charges knew how to use their Gift to eavesdrop, but she had been doing it for the many Seasons since she was at the Academy, and she had more tools than they.
"Your sisters' faces tell a different story," she said, a wry twist of her mouth hiding the need to keep acid from coming out of it. She carefully didn't smile as the Falein girl whipped her head to look at the other two. "Oh, I have no doubt that Tesliain was in the van and that Jaira Called, and I have no doubt that you were in the rear. I also have no doubt that you designed this -- maybe even at Tesliain's request! -- and every last Witchspear on the field moved to your time and tune. Somehow.
"Every night, you march as you've been instructed, usually alone," she added, enjoying the look her little sister gave the suddenly blushing Kamiéra. "You have, so far as I can tell, not even touched the Wind except in the limits of what I've allowed. You have been humble and contrite and clearly learned part of your lesson but remarkably somehow missed the most important part.
"Judgment, Kamiéra dal'Falein," she all but yelled. Oh, if her husband could see her now, he'd either tease her endlessly and try to bed her or make a joke about needing to build a new house somewhere and be gone. "You must learn judgment. All of your skill on the battlefield, all of your mastery of your Gift, all of your skill with a sword, is ultimately not just incomplete but dangerous to you and others without learning judgment. Think of every, last thing you've learned since you arrived. Think of every lesson. We aren't just teaching you to knit, to dance, to sing, to tear open armor with Wind, to guide men and women in the Dance of Steel. All of it, every part, is meant to teach you to tie all of these things together, to learn when to smile from behind a fan and avert scores of thousands dead and when to unleash the Wind and charge with glowing starmetal, when to spring your enemy's trap and when to retreat!
"And most importantly of all, how to plot around your Magistra so that she -- sick with child and short of sleep -- can't see that for all the formalities, for even your apparent self-delusion, you are clearly leading First Company again!"
Tesliain and Jaira were apparently certain a field test on the proper form of boot care was forthcoming. Kamiéra, however, was staring at her somehow intently and vacantly at the same time. This continued for at least forty heartbeats before Leirola judged the lesson sunk in.
"You are all dismissed," she said somewhat wearily, that little speech having taken some energy out of her. Kamiéra took longest to leave, ending that weird stare, nodding, and walking out as if having been given orders.
The young are very strange, Leirola thought, too tired and nauseous to consider how relatively few Seasons separated her from that state. She needed an herbal drink and her cot, and Derasos would be rubbing her feet tonight, Mother help him if he didn't.
